But I Love Him
by Tsukikami Moyizawa
Summary: Fact:Freshmen girls always fall for a senior boy at some point. Also fact:Senior boys never fall for freshmen girls. Good thing Elizaveta and Roderich are good at proving facts wrong. AusHun fanfiction!


Fact: All Freshman girls fall for a senior boy at some point.

Also fact: Senior boys never fall for freshman girls.

Hey. I'm a freshman girl. My name is Elizaveta, or Liz for short. I'm in the drum line at my school, and believe it or not, there are some really attractive guys in said drum line. Specifically, I'm talking about our very own Drum Captain, Roderich, or Rod. Not only hot, he's nice to us freshmen, and a good drum captain. Problem is, he's a senior. Which sucks because I really like him. He's got this crooked smile and bright eyes that are seriously to die for. He doesn't talk a lot, but when he does he's got something to say. And he doesn't crack jokes or be funny a lot, but when he does, he's hilarious. When I'm around him, I blush. I'm pretty sure I grin like an idiot too. But whatever. That's not that important to this story. The important thing is he's hot and I like him.

One day, on my way outside with my (HUGE) drum for practice, I looked over and happened to accidentally spot Rod changing his shirt, right there, in the middle of everything. The kid ain't shy. And from what I saw, he's got no reason to be. Normally, that wouldn't be that big of a deal. I've seen shirtless guys before, and it doesn't elicit any reaction out of me. At least, it shouldn't. This time it did, though, and I'll tell you right now it was a CHORE trying to hide that blush.

So we went through the school year like this, him being hot, me being shy. Him being a senior, me being a freshman. I knew I didn't have a chance. Nothing's more attractive than a chick with a huge bass drum on her front, right? I was quiet whenever I was around him, and I'm not pretty, so he had absolutely NO reason to even think about me, let alone like me. So I left well enough alone. At least he didn't hate me.

Sometimes, though, I'd look up from studying my new music to see him already looking in my direction. He'd quickly look away, and I figured he was looking at something else. When making sure our line was straight in practice, he'd deliberately hold my shoulders from behind me and move me to where I needed to be. The funny thing was, I was always already where I needed to be. One day, when I caught a ride to practice from a junior boy named Al, I saw him looking pretty unhappy when he saw me get out of his car. I figured all of this meant something else, though. So I didn't think much of any of it.

Then one day I was in a real pinch. Everybody but Rod had left practice. I had stuck around to clean up the band room and put away the drums. Only after that did I realize my ride (Al) had left without me, and my parents were at work and I sure as heck didn't have a car. I had but one option. _Crap, _I thought to myself as I approached Rod (who was again changing his shirt) sheepishly. "Uhm, hey, Rod?" I said quietly. He pulled his shirt over his head and turned around to face me. "Yes, Freshman?"

I stung inwardly at the typically derogatory term used in my school, and the reminder, however unintentional, of my place in the scheme of things. "Well, Al was supposed to take me home, but he left, and my mom can't come get me, so—"

He interrupted me. "Can't you call your dad?"

I shrugged. "My dad's working too."

He nodded. "Yeah, I can take you home. Come on."

Was it just me, or was he blushing?

Our director, Mr. Kirkland, said good-bye to us as we left out the back door to the band room. I slid into the passenger seat, moving a ton of sheet music into the backseat as I did so. When I closed the door, I tried to close the window, as it was starting to rain, but for some reason the crank wouldn't turn. "Here," he said, leaning over me and reaching for the crank. His hand rested on mine and he jiggled it and turned it very aggressively.

Okay, there was NO way that was a coincidence.

It was awkwardly silent in there for a while, so he started talking. "So…you ever dated?"

I sighed. "A few times."

"Are you now?"

I looked at him. "No."

He shrugged. "Seems weird. I would have thought otherwise."

I was becoming very suspicious now, but in a good way. "Why is that?"

"Well, because you're just so—" he slammed on the breaks as he almost ran a stoplight. As we continued driving, he laughed quietly to himself. "Why are you laughing?" I asked, almost indignant. Almost.

"I thought I was more obvious, but I guess not. Either that, or you're just completely oblivious. It's probably a combination of the two."

He kept his eyes on the road, smiling crookedly, and I just stared at him. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you have no idea how pretty you are. Or how smart, funny, and charming. And not to mention talented. Do you know how long it's been since a freshman, let alone a freshman girl, made the marching bass drum line? I was impressed from the start."

"And that has significance why?"

"Have you seriously not figured it out yet?"

I had, but I wouldn't believe it until I heard him say it with his own mouth. So I shook my head.

"I know it's unusual, and you might think me creepy, especially since I'm 18 and you're 15, and senior boys almost NEVER fall for freshman girls…but I don't care. I did. I like you, Elizaveta."

I stared out the windshield. "And I thought I was prepared for everything," I muttered. He looked at me, then gestured disappointedly. "I'm sorry, I was being stupid, telling you that. You probably have tons of boys your own age—"

He stopped when I put my hand on the hand he had placed on the dashboard. "And you haven't figured out yet that I like you too?"

He stared at me, astonished, and almost ran into a stop sign at the entrance to a neighborhood. I looked around as he pulled up to an unfamiliar house and parked. "Um, Rod?"

He pulled the keys out of the ignition. "Yeah?"

"You said you would take me home."

"Yeah, but I didn't say whose home."

He got out, and came around to my door, opening it and holding his hand out to me. I looked at him curiously. "It's raining."

He nodded. "Yep."

I took his hand and he pulled me out. The rain poured steadily, but not viciously. I now stood leaning against the hood of his car, my hair and clothes plastered to my skin. He stood in front of me, so close I could practically hear his heart beating and feel his warm breath on my face. My chest heaved, and my hands shook. This was actually happening. Rod, the object of my affection for months, was standing in front of me, in the rain, telling me he liked me. Showing me he liked me. He was even closer now, and his nose was almost touching mine. And then he was kissing me, his lips on mine, his arms around my waist, pressing me gently against his car. I closed my eyes and put my hands around his neck, and he moved his to stroke my face. "I can't believe I fell for a freshman," he whispered against my lips.

"Is it that unbelievable?"

"Not when it's you."

You should have seen people's faces when they saw the well-liked senior boy and the shy freshman girl walking together in the hallways, hand in hand. We didn't even think about concealing it. Who cared? I was proud to have him, and he was proud to have me. It made no difference what the others thought. Kissing behind the school, hanging out during and after school, and gradually the "like" turned into "love". We never talked about what would happen after the end of the year.

But the day had to come. Graduation, and Rod got accepted to Julliard for his piano and drum skills. I stood with him the night before he left, holding onto him for dear life, because I knew there was the possibility I'd never see him again. Yes, I had every intention of applying to Julliard, but there was no telling whether or not I'd get accepted. Anyway, that was three years away. So I cried when he held me that last time, shaking in his arms silently. Gently, he kissed my forehead. "It's okay, Liz. We'll see each other again."

I looked up and opened my mouth to contradict his words but his lips captured mine. I knew it could be our last kiss. He broke away and leaned his forehead against mine. "I promise I'll come back."

But he didn't. He never came back to the little town I lived in, because his parents moved. Every break from school we had I would wait for him to come knocking at my door, but he never did. Not Christmas break, not spring break, not even summer break, for three years. Beginning of senior year I applied to Julliard, just like I had always planned to do. Towards the end of that year I got a letter from them, accepting me on account of my piano, percussive, and vocal skills. I was incredibly excited, until I realized I had no way of knowing if Rod was even still there or not. So I decided I'd make it my priority to go to Julliard for the education, not for the boy.

I hauled myself and my stuff into the dorm room. I was told I'd be rooming with a girl named Natalia from some obscure country around Russia. She seemed a little creepy to me, and overly obsessed with her older brother, Ivan. But he dropped her off, and he was creepy too. I got settled into the room and decided to take a walk around campus. I walked through the middle of the student union, not really paying attention to where I was going, and I walked smack into someone. Stumbling, I started to apologize profusely to a distinctly German young man. Smoothing his hair back, he said, "It's fine, sorry. Hey, you're new here, da?" I nodded, and he stuck out his hand to me. "My name is Ludwig Beilschmidt. Un yours is…?" "Elizaveta Hedervary."

"Nice to meet you, Elizaveta!"

I started to correct him, to tell him that I'm called Liz, but I decided maybe it was time for me to get a little more adult.

"Elizaveta, would you like to come up to my dorm? I have a grand piano," he invited. I smiled at him. It was time to let go of Rod and start something new. Ludwig was handsome. He and I might get along quite nicely. "That sounds nice."

He led me up to his room, opening the door and inviting me in. "You're quite hospitable," I told him, leaning against the counter. He nodded. "Something we Germans are quite good at."

I spotted the piano crammed in the middle of the living room. "I hope your roommate doesn't mind having that in the middle of everything," I commented. He laughed. "Of course he doesn't. He plays it too, and he says it reminds him of his ex-girlfriend. Poor guy. He's still in love with her."

I looked down. If only I could know that Rod felt that way about me.

Ludwig gestured at the piano. "Do you play?"

I grinned. "That's what I got in for. That and vocals. Of course I play." He smiled broadly and said, "Will you play and sing for me a song?"

I nodded, and started to play a song. Mine and Rod's song. Suddenly, an adjacent door slammed open and Ludwig's roommate stormed into the room. "Lud, how many times do I have to ask you to refrain from playing while I'm working on my composition? And especially, why did you have to choose that song to play?"

He was halfway through his spiel, headphones around his neck and pencil and sheet music in hand, when he finally realized it wasn't Lud playing the piano. He stared at me, and I stared right back.

Rod.

"Oh my god," he breathed. "Liz."

I stood up from the bench and glared at him. "Three years," I said in a low voice. "Three years ago you left. Three years, I had no word from you. Three years, you never came back. You promised to come back!"

He stepped forward. "Liz, I can explain. You know my parents moved, so it was generally accepted that I had no reason to go back there—"

"Except me! I was still there! And I stayed there for years, waiting for you to come back so we could pick up where we left off! But you didn't!"

"I was busy, Liz! I've been bombarded with studies and music and stress! I would have if I could have, Liz!"

"Elizaveta! But you didn't call either. I never got a WORD from you!"

He stepped forward again and grabbed my shoulders. "Elizaveta!"

Then he pressed his lips to mine, hard. I gasped and was surprised when I felt tears on my skin that weren't mine. I closed my eyes and let my own waterworks out. He held me tighter than he'd ever held me before, one hand on my face and the other on my waist. I wrapped my arms around him, and I felt him smile against my mouth. He broke off and hugged me, whispering in my ear, "Never again. I'll never let it happen again."

Ludwig started to clap slowly. We looked around at him, and he grinned. "That was quite touching. I would never have thought that the girl I found was my roommate's girlfriend."

Rod stared at him. "Why did you bring her up here anyway?"

Lud flushed and looked around. "I wanted to show her the piano."

Rod narrowed his eyes. "Somehow I don't think that was the only thing you wanted to show her."

Lud decided it was time for him to go.

I laughed and we kissed again. I was so happy to have him back after all this time.

And this time it lasted. After he graduated, he stayed in the area, in the same apartment building as Natalia and I. After graduation, he asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes. We both obtained teaching positions at a local high school, him teaching band and me teaching chorus. We had children; boys named Feliciano and Lovino.

And we all lived happily ever after, until the day we died.

THE END


End file.
